


I've never been patient

by UnconsciousAndTired



Series: My Vent Fics [1]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Emotional Hurt, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Suicide, Suicide Notes, no beta we die like george in manhunt, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:35:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27747598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnconsciousAndTired/pseuds/UnconsciousAndTired
Summary: Sapnap: DREAM JUST ANSWER THE PHONESapnap: PLEASESapnap: CLAY PLEASE JUST TALK TO US---A vent fic because i need to stop thinking about what happened
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), No Romantic Relationship(s)
Series: My Vent Fics [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2066736
Comments: 12
Kudos: 80





	I've never been patient

**Author's Note:**

> This is literally just a vent fic, just as the rest of my works will probably be. No, I don’t actually want the CCs to actually do these things, I just have unrestrained mental illness and need an outlet.
> 
> Anyways, if any of the CCs want this shit down, it'll be punted into space faster than light, and deleted.

He’s had his phone completely shut off for awhile now. The sound of discord calls had started to become too loud and guilty in his head, screaming at him to give his friends a better goodbye than he had, so he tore the damn battery out instead. The hunk of metal now sits across the room, on the floor and in a corner.

That doesn’t stop the calls from going through to his computer, though. 

Call after call after call, each one from a different person that managed to get through first. As morbid as it may be, Dream almost laughs at how much they suddenly care. Who would’ve known that all this time, he just needed to say a few fucked up, self-deprecating phrases to get the biggest thing he’s ever craved? It’s only out of fear, anyways. Nothing real.

Part of him wants to throw the computer screen against a wall. The other part knows it’ll only make the clean-up more annoying for whoever finds him. That’s probably a stupid thing of him to think about, but it’s all there is to keep him from smashing the monitor to bits and pieces, so maybe it’s a good thing. Besides, he still needs to finish his letters.

Breathing in a little deeper, Dream begins typing out another message, this one going to Sapnap. Immediately, he gets spammed with more messages from the Texan, asking him questions and giving him words of consolation, love, and hope. 

Dream ignores them for now, and keeps typing, ignoring the calls as he goes.

\--

I don’t think I’m going to look over this message before I send it, because I don’t want to let myself get too scared to actually give it to you, so I’ll try to keep my grammar decipherable on the first try. God, how embarrassing would it be if I made a bunch of typos in my last message to you?    
  


So uh, hey Sapnap. Nick? Sap? Snapmap? I don’t actually know which name works best here. I don’t know  _ anything _ that would work well here, isn’t that weird? I feel like I always know what to say, but then when it comes to these, I’ve never been able to plan what I’d write. Always told myself I would do it spur of the moment so it was more “real”. But all that did was make me forget to add the important stuff. That’s probably rude of me to tell you, actually. I don’t want to make you think that there was anything left unsaid between us, but I’m refusing to hit backspace right now, out of fear of deleting the important bits, so I guess it’ll have to stay.

What do I say to you? 

That I love you? That you changed my life? That I would’ve been dead a long time ago if I hadn’t met you? Because I feel like that much is already obvious. Maybe this is stupid. Maybe I shouldn’t have done any of this. Maybe I should’ve just let myself do it, going dark and never coming back online again. That would’ve been somewhat easier, right? Instead of already knowing that I’m still alive, and about to not be?

I don’t know. It’s stupid. Sorry.

You can call me an attention-seeker if you want, it’s okay. I already know. I’m pretty sure the real me has always been selfish like that, I’m just too fucking insecure to show it. 

God, this is becoming more about me than it is about you, isn’t it? Sorry. Like I said, selfish.

That being said, I hope you’ll be okay after this. Really. You have so much ahead of you, and I really do believe you can change the world, even if that sounds cheesy as hell. I think you’re just what everyone needs. There’s so much for you, dude. You’re the best friend a person could ever ask for, and sometimes I can’t believe that I had someone so fucking amazing. I’m trying to find the right words as I type, but all I can come up with is a Thank You. 

Thank you Sapnap, Nick, and everything in between. For being here. For being you. For existing.

  
  


I love you.

-

**YOUR MESSAGE IS TOO LONG**

**Please make your message of 2272 characters shorter. We’ve set the limit at 2000 characters to be courteous to others.**

  
  


Sighing, Dream splits the message in half, sending it in two parts. 

A stifling sense of pain and suspense hits him as he watches the little  _ Sapnap is typing… _ disappears as he reads over the message. It’s obvious when he doesn’t finish reading the whole thing though, because he immediately starts typing again.

-

_ Sapnap: DREAM _

_ Sapnap: DREAM SHUT UP AND LISTEN TO ME _

_ Sapnap: PLEASE _

_ Sapnap: ANWSER MY CALLS _

_ Sapnap: OR GEORGES OR DARRYLS OR ANYONES JUST PLEASE TALK TO US _

_ Sapnap: CLAY ANSWER _ _  
_ _ Sapnap: PLESAE _

_ Sapnap: CLAY _

_ Sapnap: CLAY  _

-

  
  


After realizing that Sapnap had been the last one (saving the best and hardest for last, afterall), Dream shuts down his computer. He’s careful to sign out of discord and any other personal accounts he has before he does so -afterall, he wants someone to use that same computer after he’s long gone. No point in letting it go to waste when Drista could easily have use for it.

Speaking of Drista, she never actually read his text before Dream took the battery out of his phone. It was only 4am when he sent it, and it’s not like he  _ wants _ her to see it, but... It just kind of sucks knowing he doesn’t have enough time to talk to his sister one last time. It’s only been 12 minutes since he finished the pill bottle, but something tells him he won’t be there when she wakes up at noon.

Dream needs to get out of this room. 

  
  


Seven minutes later, he’s settling down on his couch with a bowl of chicken noodle soup (this one has little stars!) and enough blankets to hide a body -a joke that he’d intended to be funny, before the implications actually processed. Wouldn’t that be something? For his landlord to burst into the house, angry about how late the rent is, only for her to find a mountain of blankets covering a dead tenant. Or maybe she’d think he was asleep, and try screaming at him awake. 

That would be an experience, wouldn’t it?

“I don’t wanna lose you again,” the TV echoes out. It’s playing the final episode of Adventure Time, the one where Marceline and Bubblegum finally get back together. As sappy as it is, this scene has always made him cry just a bit.

For some reason though, Dream doesn’t seem to be crying this time. He has a weird sense of meditative contentment that he doesn’t know what to do with. Whenever his mind went numb, Dream always saw it as a bad thing; a slump that he needed to get out of, yet could never do anything but wait. It’s such a similar situation to the one he’s in now, except it feels… Happy? Relieved? 

Dream isn’t sure. Either way, he’s okay with it.

Minutes go by as Dream gets drowsier and drowsier, slow blinks feeling closer to naps, and passing thoughts more like full length dreams. Absorbed in a stream of thoughts and reminiscence, he can’t help but look back on everything he’s ever done in life. Both the good, and the bad, respectively. 

-

The haze of a rainy day floods his mind, and Dream immediately recognizes the memory. 

The clouds are still pretty light, given the amount of water they’re clearly holding. He’s rushing home, trying to shield the reusable bag of groceries with his jacket, and only partially succeeding. He’s almost home, and if he can  _ just _ keep running for a few more blocks, he’ll make it in time to help Mom make dinner. With that thought in mind, and that thought alone, Dream continues pounding his feet against slippery pavement.

Before nearly stepping on something practically flattened against the sidewalk. 

Or, more accurately, a kitten.

-

Thoughts of the past slowly drift away again, this time bringing a feeling of nostalgia. He’d found Patches on that sidewalk years ago, barely breathing and too young to be away from her mother. Of course, Dream carefully picked her up, and ran home, making sure not to hurt her more than she already was.

Instinctively, his hand moves out to the side to pet the cat. The numbness in his arm made him feel like it was moving a full minute after he actually told it too, forcing him to recalibrate his aim every few moments. It’s until a few seconds later that he realizes Patches isn’t even there.

Dream had dropped her off at his mom’s house last night. It was under the guise that he’d be away for a few days, and he didn’t want her to be lonely -it was clear that his mom only slightly believed him, but she lovingly took the cat anyways.

Because she cares.

For a moment, Dream thinks about trying to throw up the pills. But there’s no way he’ll be able to throw up enough to save himself. It’s already been too long. He’s already too tired. There’s already so much finished, it’ll only get worse from here if he tries to stay back.

So he wraps himself closer in the blankets, already too warm but not really caring, and finally lets himself cry.

It’s finally over. He doesn’t have to wait for anything to get better, anymore, because this is as good as it’ll ever get. They always say that life will get better, but time always tends to drag on when things are bad, and well…

He’s never been patient.

**Author's Note:**

> This is heavily based on my own suicide attempt because i needed it to get out of my fucking head (don’t worry, im somewhat better now), so please don’t use this as the universal experience, this stuff is different for everyone. 
> 
> Also yes, a few of the quotes from Sapnap’s note are from my own suicide letter to my best friend. So if it felt a little too real, thats why lmao
> 
> Anyways dont leave comments like "why would you write that, thats so bad" yeah, i fucking know, i live with it in my head 24/7 and this is my only healthy coping mechanism, so get out. 
> 
> If you actually read through this whole unedited mess, thank you for reading lmao <3


End file.
